Chapter 6: Flame Beasts
A/N: Sorry for the late update...School's busy. X(
But hey, here's the next chapter...
*Joule - First Person Narration*
Grayson runs ahead and straight into the burning mansion. Now tell me, am I the only one who questions his sanity at this moment? Then again, I run in right after him. Guess that proves I'm crazy too.
There's instant evidence of torching on the walls, and unnatural clusters of heat. It's clear that the fire was set, not an accident, and by what I can tell the person must have been using a flamethrower. Who really uses those anymore? Guess my dad still likes to work old-school with all that family crap. I can almost guarantee one of my uncles were here.
Dick yanks on the kitchen door and I jump back instantly, pulling him by the arm and away from the angry flames that spew from the kitchen door like Smaug's mouth. (I'd gone to see the Hobbit Part Two before violating one of the many movie theaters I visited. One word? Awesome.)
After a moment of the portal to the kitchen remaining open, a fair amount of gas had been released and burned, the flames dying down a bit. Looking in I could see that the stove's gas had been ignited and trapped inside until the door was opened.
Richard decided to push through once again, this time singing both his and mine's skin as the flames licked our arms. "Alfred!" he called out. His faithful butler. I didn't want to say it to him, but the way I see it, Alfred is either dead or not hear. I can only hope he was taken captive.
"Alfred!" he called again, his voice seemingly smothered by the cracking of the flames and dense smoky air. A section of roof came tumbling down and this time it was Dick who rolled and dragged me out of harm's way.
"Dick, we can't stay here!" I reasoned. The look in his eyes told me that he was far beyond reason though. After losing so much, I'd imagine he's grabbing at straws, trying to hold onto what little he can.
"If you want to go, then leave! I didn't ask you to follow me in!" He continued searching by stepping trough another door. For some reason, I couldn't make my feet to follow him. Common sense finally caught up to me.
'You're not a hero. You shouldn't be here. So what you vandalized a few theaters for Grayson's sake? You're still more of a criminal than anything else, stealing just to survive like an insect.' I hated it when I argued with myself; I always lost. Giving in, I dashed to a window, slid it open, and clambered out.
Within the walls I could still hear Dick calling, but I really didn't believe he would find anything. I silently hoped he wouldn't get himself killed.
'So now what? You're just going to stand there?' No, I supposed not. I should do something, but I'd already sided on staying away from the fire. I didn't like fire, except for the ones in metal bins, hidden within dark alleyways. Those fires kept me from freezing at night.
I took a provident look around and noticed something strange. While the whole first floor was in flames, only half the second floor was lit and the third floor as cold as the night. Flames continued to grow on the third floor, but it seemed too rapid. Whoever started the fire with their blowtorch may still be lighting the house.
'Well, are you just going to stay here, or are you going to see your uncle?' I take a moment to realize that I really need a psychiatrist to help me get rid of my voice in my head. Then, reaching a decision, I climbed a tree.
All of the branches that came near the windows of the house had been nicely trimmed, as one would expect from a mansion. Only one window on the second floor had a branch that came right close to a second-story window. I know that I'm not a flying Grayson, but I can at least climb well enough so I scurry up the tree, still wearing my black combat boots, and jump five feet towards the windowsill. I miss and end up crashing through the window, but I suppose that's close enough. I stand, painfully brushing shards of glass out of my skin and leaving deep gashes in my right shoulder, chest, and arms, along with a jab to my left leg. It sucks, but I don't really care. It's just… pain. I've felt worse during days of starvation so…
I take a moment to study the room. It's in the latter half of the mansion and there are no flames here yet. In the hallway I can hear an echoing of doors being kicked open with a few minute intervals. That proves my theory of somebody still being in the mansion lighting things up. Somewhere below me and to the right comes the faintly audible voice of Dick still calling for Alfred.
As I go to stand from my position on the floor, I notice the décor. There's a rally soft, nice, Russian rug covering a finely polished wooden floor. Standing to my feet, I see the walls are mostly void of color. One lonely poster hangs and there's a red guitar in the corner of the room, propped against the joining of two walls. The electric guitar is beautiful, in my opinion. I could never own such a thing, even if I had the money it would just be stolen. It's beautiful with fine curving and stylistic sharper edgings. Black two-tone and a candy-apple red that shimmers in the dimmer light of this room. It's exactly what I would expect the Boy Wonder to own, though Dick Grayson seems more of an acoustic type. Robin's cooler in some ways. I turn my attention away from the guitar and to the poster on the wall.
The poster is beautiful too, but in a different way. It's a poster that reads "The Flying Graysons!" on it, with a tint of faded coloring and flailed edges. Figures are swinging with a faded red and gold behind them, a poster that I'd actually seen before. Many years ago, on the night the Flying Graysons preformed their last act together. I didn't know why Dick had such a sad reminder tacked to his wall, other than that it must be special. My attention is drawn back to the kicking of doors in the hall as the door in the room to my right is set open. I don't have much time now, but there's something about the poster that holds my attention. 'I can't leave it here.' For once, both sides of me agree.
Less than a minute later I'm walking out of the room and into the hallway, my hands empty and the guitar strapped to my back. I feel bad about it, but I'd cut a small hole in the guitar and place the poster on the inside for protection. And, also because it meant I actually got to bring the guitar along with me. The door to the room on my left was open and a red glowed from within.
Here's my chance. I can either run, or stay. 'You're not a hero.' No, I can agree on that. I'm not a hero, but I want to be.
I didn't have to wait long for a figure to emerge from the broken doorframe. Not only one figure, but three. Two men in black masks on either side of one center man. The man standing dead between the other two was the biggest, wore a red ski mask, and in his arms he held a very large flamethrower. 'You and your stupid fantasies of being a hero. Now you're going to die.' I swallowed, remembering suddenly that I'm an idiot who can only half fight. Three guys and a flamethrower. The odds were certainly not in my favor.
That is, until I had Robin on my side.
*POV END*
Dick rolled under the three men, causing all of them to stumble back and the lesser two to fall on their butts. He used a hand-stand to kick the standing one in the face that made him stumble back a bit more.
"Joule?"
"Yes?" She replied, looking at him in an almost fan-girl-daydream sort of way.
"Run, will you?"
"Um, okay!" Her features returned to seriousness and she immediately turned into his room, Dick hot on her heals. That became literal as the flamethrower was fired and the hall lit in flames. Joule ran to the broken window and reached the outstretching branch. The flamethrower spewed fire again, this time into Richard's room just as he caught the branch and swung down after Joule. While in the air, he took a moment to observe the section of wall by his door where his poster hung, but all he could see was flames. Letting go of his sadness and remembering the situation he landed on the ground nearly silently and pulled Joule into the tree line.
"Where are we going?" She questioned as they came to a river. Dick followed it upstream until they came to a waterfall.
"I'm taking you to the Batcave, it's the only place that's safe," Robin responded as he waded into the fall. Joule jumped after him and slipped on the rocks as she landed. Dick smirked.
"We'll have to stay here for now." Joule nodded and followed him quietly to the Batcomputer. He sat down and began working, obviously not in the mood for conversation.
"I, um," Joule began, but just about lost her nerve as he turned to look at her. He looked so serious and intimidating all of the sudden, but his eyes still held a great sadness and sense of desperation. Timidly, she handed him his guitar.
He didn't make a motion to grab it.
"Um, thanks, but that really won't help right now," he stated. Joule looked down at the slightly burnt and damaged guitar.
"It's not the guitar that I'm giving you. The guitar still works, so I'll probably be keeping that for myself!" She said with a bit of pep in her words and a smile that grew over her face. "What's inside is for you." She reached at the small hole about half an inch in diameter and caught the edge of the rolled paper that stuck out. She removed it carefully and let it unroll. She held it out until Dick carefully took it into his hands. He turned away again, setting the poster face-up on the computer council and continued to type. Disappointed by the lack of caring and response, Joule walked away to find a distant corner to rest in. Silently sitting at the computer, fingers typing keys, a single tear slid down the last Grayson's face and quite possibly the last Young Justice Member, and Bat, left alive.
*Wally's POV*
It was a terrible pain, one that I've never grown accustomed to and that haunts my very sleep. Every second was pure torture, a monstrous beast set to roam inside the cold dungeon walls. It growled and I couldn't believe anyone could be so cruel!
"Artemisssss…" I begged for her attention. She shot me a glare, seemingly unbothered by the beast's growling in hunger.
"What, Baywatch?"
"Artemisss… they haven't fed us in like three hourssssss!" Artemis rolled her eyes, which I did not appreciate.
"Can in Baywatch, you're stomach's the least of our problems." Kaldur sighed in the corner, rubbing his temples in frustration.
It's been a while, less than a day, since we were all knocked out with gas. The team (minus Robin) and Batman had all been thrown into a dungeon, none of us having any weapons and armed guards placed at a series of doors. Before they dragged Batman, or Bruce Wayne, off he had told us that Joule had taken Robin and kept him away from these maniacs. And now, since the guards came and took Bruce away, the whole team has just been sitting in this craped little cell in a basement waiting for something to happen. As far as we know, everyone's fine. My team's okay, Robin escaped, and the only one we don't know the condition of is Batman. But… he's freaking BATMAN! They can't really do much to him unless they have Robin who, as I said, is safe. So now I sit here, me being the only one in pain out of all of us, and no one even cares!
My stomach growls again, louder than before and I moan, dragging my hand through my fiery red hair for effect. "Oh come on guys, how can this NOT be the most important thing right now?!" Artemis glared at me very intently now.
"Who knows what they're doing to Batman, or where Robin is? They could be hurt, or in danger! And all you care about is food?!" I rolled my eyes this time.
"Oh come on Arty. We already know Robin escaped and Batman's just plain out Batman. He'll be fine."
"How do we know Robin hasn't come back to try and save us?" M'gann asked from her place next to Conner. Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose still sniffled every once in a while. She'd cried when they took Batman, but she was getting over it now.
"If Robin came back we'd know. They would've come back to get us," I reasoned.
"They did come for Batman," Conner pointed out. "Maybe… Maybe they just didn't need us right now. Maybe all they need is Robin and Batman. These aren't our enemies, they're there's."
"Wrong," I said. "As soon as they tried to pick on Robin they became all of our enemies."
"What Conner means to say," Kaldur intervened, "Is that, to the villains, Robin and Batman are the only ones who matter." The team sat quiet for a minute, contemplating this.
"So," Artemis paused. "Does that mean they'll let us go?"
"That or kill us," Conner said, and once again, silence ensued.
A/N: Sorry if this chapter isn't the best. It's one in the morning, but eh. I still like it well enough. Hope you guys enjoyed it; Rock On.